Handa's first day
by Shiroyuki143
Summary: Handa meets the old man by the sea.


Handa danced with the brush within his hand, throwing large unrestrained strokes against the rice paper canvas. He collapsed, exhausted on the floor of the apartment. Looking up at the ceiling, Handa recalled the cause of his current residence.

It was just a month ago in the annual calligraphy tournament when his prized calligraphy won the 2nd prize. Everyone congratulated Handa, coming up to offer words of praise. Yet the old man had the nerve to say that his hard work was worthless, his calligraphy that took years upon years to master, adhering to the basics. How dare that old geezer. With that, the anger within Handa welled up, unleashed in a solid punch to the jaw. He had just hit an old man. Handa Seishun, prodigious calligrapher had just punched an old man.

Shortly after, Handa was shipped off to Fukue.

A note in his hand, Handa waited at the entrance of the airport. It was empty, and silent, not a soul to be seen. 'Where was the taxi? Or anyone for that matter?' With his handwritten instructions in one hand and his luggage in the other, Handa trudged along the dirt track towards the village. The sound of a broken engine could be heard from behind, rusty gears rubbed against each other, grinding away, accompanied by the irregular puff of exhaust. An old man called out from behind," Sonny! Do ya want ah ride!"

Handa made himself comfortable at the back of the old red tractor, well as comfortable as he could on a vehicle that rocked about as though he were in a plane facing turbulence. The motion heaved the contents in his stomach, the cheap bento contents threatened to come out.

"Yer lucky, sonny. If I hadn't come by, it mighta taken you more'n half a day get to Nanatsutake Village!" The old man said out of nowhere, in his country accent. A rice farmer hat shielded the old man from the sun, he was dressed in a simple T-shirt, shorts and a pair of slippers. His skin was tanned form the long hours under the sun, bent over form planting rice in the paddies. Yet he had a wide goofy smile on his face the entire time.

"Huh?" Handa grunted in response, unable to decipher what the old farmer was saying.

"Mighta taken half a day's walk!" The old man repeated, louder this time.

"Uh, I can't understand what you're saying." Handa replied in quick succession.

"Huh?! Whaddya say?!"

"Huh?!"

"HUH?!"

An awkward silence broke the conversation.

"Ain't got no clue what yer sayin'." The old man called over the roar of the engine.

'Whatever, I'll just ignore him.'

Apart from the flattened dirt track there was no sign of human activities, wild trees and shrubs flourished unrestrained. In the distance, hills were covered in lush vegetation, appearing to be a mass of greenness. Little bits of the blue sky could be seen in the spaces between the white clouds above.

'There's nothing here..' Handa sighed as he got felt further and further away from the civilization he used to know.

"Look there, sonny!" The old man called out," It's th'sea! Th'sea!"

"'Th'sea'?" Handa repeated the monosyllable, unable to comprehend what the old man was pointing out.

"Ugh.." Handa grunted as he stood up, turning to the right, he faced the sea that he old man was pointing out.

"What d'you think?" The old man asked cheerfully, "My grandkid sure loves th'sea! Always a-squealin' with glee at th'sight." The old man's eyes made a line as he smiled at the thought of his grandchild, his bushy grey eyebrows lifted as he flashed his toothy grin.

"What's to think?" Handa muttered "It's just the ocean.." He trailed off.

"_Maybe it doesn't look pretty because my heart's gone hard?"_ Handa pessimistically commented.

Suddenly the ground halted, the inertia propelled Handa forward into a crash, he tumbled haphazardly to the metal bar separating him and the old man.

"Ah-Ouch.. My ribs" Handa choked out, winded by the impact.

"This's as far as I take you." The old man commented, oblivious to Handa's slumped figure. "Gotta get to tha fields"

"_The sea not lookin' pretty to you, sonny, ain't 'cause your heart's gone hard."_ He held out his thumb in approval, _"It's just 'cuz it gets cloudy in th'afternoon."_ The old man light-heartedly consoled Handa.

"Oh.. So that's it." Handa remarked.

"Th'sea's worth seein' 'specially when your heart's gone hard. You just don' see that."

The murky green sea quivered in the distance, gently enveloping the yellow banks. True enough; a thick blanket of clouds was above, shielding sunlight from the surface of the water.


End file.
